


Give a Little

by mrsbarlow



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20567984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsbarlow/pseuds/mrsbarlow
Summary: William decides he and Kyle need a couple's activity. Kyle is skeptical. Chaos ensues.





	Give a Little

**Author's Note:**

> I deeply regret that I am now on board the willy/dubas train. This is basically just every absurd scenario I would love to see Kyle and Willy somehow navigate as two very different personalities.
> 
> Title from the Maggie Rogers song.

When Kyle gets home from his meeting, William is flopped on his couch with a notebook and pen and the new Taylor Swift album playing very loud. His face lights up and he scrambles around trying to pause the music.

“Kyle!” he exclaims, like he didn’t just see him three hours ago.

“William!” Kyle replies with matched enthusiasm and a bemused expression. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Very good question, Kyle, just what I was hoping you would ask. Come sit.” He scoots to the left a little and pats the spot on the couch next to him. Kyle sits, somewhat wearily.

“I have a great idea.”

“O-kaaay,” Kyle says.

“I’ve been thinking, and I sort of realized that, like, we talk about hockey a lot, like a lot a lot. You know?”

Kyle frowns, confused. “Um. Yes. That is sort of how we met, William. It is both of our jobs. It’s a pretty strong point of common interest for us.”

This time William rolls his absurdly blue eyes. “I know that, Kyle, but I mean it’s kind of our only big ‘common interest’ as you say, like that we know of. I mean, this is still so new, right? And so we’re still like, getting to know each other,” he says in a weirdly suggestive tone.

“I mean,” William continues, and Kyle wonders if he could steal a piece of William’s note paper and start keeping a tally of how many times he says ‘I mean’. “You’re always telling me about books and I try to listen to the podcasts you play in the car? But I’m just more of a music guy, you know?”

“William,” Kyle says slowly, “I’m pretty sure based on your enthusiasm that you aren’t about to break up with me, but it kind of sounds like that’s where this is going so maybe you could tell me what this is actually about before I have a heart attack?”

William’s eyes go very wide. “I’m not breaking up with you! Why would I break up with you? You’re super hot and weirdly funny and you’re smart in like a sexy way not an annoying way like Zach. And you made me breakfast in bed this morning. I did not just spend three hours looking up a bunch of couple’s activities for us to try so that I could break up with you.”

“Okay good,” Kyle laughs, embarrassingly relieved. And then he pauses. Rewinds. Thinks about the last part of what William just said. He raises an eyebrow at William, looks at the notepad clutched in his hand and then back to his eager, grinning face. “William,” he says, in what he is certain is a very calm and rational voice. “You spent the past three hours doing what now?”

William wiggles a little bit so he can tuck his feet under Kyle’s legs and gives the notepad a little flourish. “How do you feel about aerial silks?”

Kyle blinks at him. “No.”

“Not a suuuper detailed answer but okay, sure, we can scratch that one. Might be for the best. I know you work out because I saw you at the gym a few weeks ago and it was like, super hot, but I don’t know if you have the wrist strength. Maybe we could try—”

“William? Why do we need a couple’s activity? We don’t need a couple’s activity. We have a couple’s activity, we—”

“Sex doesn’t really count, Kyle? Most couples do that, it’s not exactly unique.”

“I don’t mean sex!” Kyle says, flustered. The bridge of his nose feels a little sweaty and his glasses are slipping. William notices too and gently boops them with his index finger to push them back into place. “We do plenty of things together. We have plenty to talk about. We wouldn’t have made it this far if we had nothing but work in common.”

Kyle ignores the fact that ‘this far’ is only about five weeks, because, frankly, it’s irrelevant. Or actually it’s very relevant. Kyle is a statistics guy; it’s what he does. He is practical. He would know if there was zero compatibility beyond a basic point of interest and admittedly really good sex. Couple’s activities are for people who have been married for at least twenty years and don’t know how to have fun anymore. Kyle is fun. William is maybe too fun. Together they are So Fun. How much more fun could organized activities or risky ice breakers be?

“Okay so I’m sensing a little hesitation here,” William hums.

“You sound like a therapist.”

“Therapy is good, Kyle. You can learn a lot about yourself. And communication. Kappy and I actually have the same therapist which is probably why we were such compatible roommates.”

“Maybe we can leave Kappy out of this couple’s activities thing?”

“Very good idea. That would be a disaster. I would never go rock climbing with Kappy.”

Kyle can only imagine how horrified his face must look at that thought, because William bursts out laughing. “Okay, okay so rock climbing’s a no, too, fine. But this could be fun! We can try all sorts of things!”

“We already do try all sorts of things. That’s how dating works. We go out and do things together and it’s fun.”

“Well, just think of these things as additional date nights. Lucky you.”

Kyle gives him an exasperated look and Willy pouts a little bit.

“Kyyyyyleeee,” he sighs dramatically. “Summer’s almost over and then training camp is going to start and we’re both going to be so busy with so much hockey. We need something fun to do together that isn’t going to have us stuck on work all the time.” He doesn’t say, like last fall, but it hangs in the air anyway. Months of strained phone conversations and contract negotiations were not among the most fun times of either of their lives, and they weren’t even dating then.

He’s probably right, but Kyle’s not quite ready to concede yet. He’s usually the one winning arguments, although he doesn’t think this counts as an argument. He hopes it doesn’t. That would be a pretty stupid first argument for them to have. “Why do I feel like the other guys like Auston and Mitch and Zach don’t have this problem.”

“Because Auston is so painfully single, Zach literally has a second career writing fairy tales or whatever, and Mitch and Steph go bowling once a week like the eighty-year-old porch couple they are.”

“That’s kind of bleak.”

“Exactly. It’s very bleak, Kyle. Do you want us to be that bleak?”

“I don’t want to be a regular at a bowling club, no,” he admits, and then after a pause, “and I don’t want to be single like Auston either. Because I like you. A lot. So.”

William grins and quite literally bats his eyelashes at Kyle. “Soooo…”

“So we can find a goddamn couples activity, William, are you satisfied?”

“Yes! This is going to be so fun, babe, just wait.”

The next half hour consists of William showing Kyle the truly enormous list of activities he made for them to try and Kyle shooting about half of them down immediately, most notably equestrian lessons (Kyle’s not sure he can handle the image of William riding a horse), water aerobics (“we’re not seventy-year-olds with arthritis, William”), and a failed effort at eliminating dance lessons to no avail because of William’s blatant refusal to give up an opportunity to teach Kyle how to waltz. They end up with a still decently long list, but narrow it down to five to start.

“Great, so I guess I’ll just take a look through my calendar and see when I can schedule book club, knitting club, yoga class, pottery lessons, and tours at the ROM in between meetings with Mitch’s agent.”

“Perfect,” William says, already scrolling through his phone calendar. “I’ll get us signed up for everything. This is going to be so much fun! Don’t you think it’ll be fun?”

And William’s eyes are so bright and crinkled with his laugh lines, his voice that little bit high pitched it gets when he’s really excited, that Kyle can’t bring himself to be sarcastic again. He smiles and reaches out to hold William’s hand, rubs his thumb gently over his knuckles. “It’ll be great. I can’t wait.”

William beams and scoots forward to kiss him. Kyle hums happily and pulls him closer. “There is that one couple’s activity we already though,” he murmurs against Williams mouth.

“Oh my god, Kyle, you’re so embarrassing.” But he lets Kyle tug him towards the bedroom, still laughing.

***

First up is yoga, and Kyle figures it couldn’t have possibly gone any worse than it did. The woman running the class is a tall, blonde, white woman named Karen who starts the class by asking them to sit quietly and reflect on what God’s journey for them is before they begin some poses to work out all the bumps along his path. William has to quite literally slap a hand over Kyle’s mouth during this speech to stop him from loudly protesting, and while he doesn’t stomp out (they did pay an absurd $35 for a drop in because fuck Toronto), he does glare and grump his way through most of the class.

According to Karen, William is a natural, ‘born to stretch and bend’. Kyle nearly falls out downward dog at the words, which just leads her to laugh in a rather condescending way and tell him to work on his inner balance. Whatever the fuck that means.

By the time they exit the studio an hour later it is pouring rain, and Kyle’s body aches in places he didn’t know it was possible to ache.

“I think you broke my spine,” he grumbles to William when they finally squish their way onto a crammed streetcar.

“I didn’t even touch you,” William scoffs. “This was solo yoga, Kyle, we didn’t even get to try any of the cool couple’s yoga ones like youtubers do.”

“Is that what you were watching this morning? I thought it was like a how-to new sex positions video.”

William gives Kyle a strange look. “Um. Don’t you think that would be something we should watch together, Kyle? What good is it if I’m the only one who knows what I’m doing?”

Kyle decides to not answer that question and instead says, “Whatever, I think we can safely say that yoga will not be our couple’s activity.”

“No,” William agrees, “I don’t think it would be great for our relationship if you killed our brand-new yoga instructor.”

“She was awful!” Kyle burst out, unable to stop himself. “She might as well have just called it ‘Intro to Christianity, Optional Workout’.”

“It’s hot when you say smart things.”

Kyle blushes and scoffs a little. “Well, then maybe we should try book club next. I could talk about books for years.”

“Hm tempting. I’ll see what I can find. For now though can you move like just a little to the left? You’re dripping water on my new shoes and they were like $400.”

So maybe, Kyle thinks as he stares at William, incredulous, finding a couple’s activity isn’t going to be the easiest thing ever.

***

“What did you think a book club was going to be, William?” Kyle asks, trying very hard not to laugh as they walk home from the library later that week. It was their first, and likely only, book club meeting, and it had taken all of three minutes for William to interrupt the group and say, “Wait, wait, wait. You’ve all already read the book?”

William mutters something under his breath and stomps along beside Kyle. “What was that?” Kyle teases, fully grinning now. “You thought it was like a read-a-long circle? That we would all take turns going around the circle reading a chapter?”

“So maybe I thought that would be a fun and cute thing for us to do!” William says hotly. “Why did they go on about ‘collaborative reading’ or whatever in the brochure if we aren’t reading the book together?”

“Well, now I wish we were if you were going to use more words like ‘collaboratively’.”

“I know words, Kyle,” William snaps. “What the fuck is a crawdad anyway and why are they singing?”

Kyle sighs. “William, that’s why everyone reads the book in advance and then we all talk about it together. I though that’s why you’d want to do it. You love to talk. You love to tell me about drama with the boys or what happened on the bachelor last week.”

“How was I supposed to know?” William flails a little, nearly knocking the flowers out of the hands of the man walking past.

“I was literally reading the book in bed last night.”

“I thought you were just being you, like a nerd who couldn’t wait for the rest of the class.”

Kyle rolls his eyes. The crosswalk turns green and he slips his hand into William’s as they weave through the crowds of people. Kyle feels William relax, like all the tension drains out of him just because Kyle’s holding his hand. And…that’s pretty nice, Kyle thinks. Nicer than the book they (or just he, really) read for this book club, nicer than the snacks the lady leading the club had laid out on the tables, nicer than just about any part of the evening so far. Kyle thinks he’d probably do the whole fairly not great night over again just to hold William’s hand like he is now.

“Hey,” he says once they’re across the street. He pulls William out of the way, under an overhang for a closed café. “So book club wasn’t it. That’s fine. We have the rest of your list to try. You and I can have our own book club where we pass the book back and forth to read it, if you want.”

William's eyes aren’t quite as bright and crinkly as they usually are, but he does look a little less worried. “Yeah. Yeah okay. That sounds nice. I like mysteries, maybe we can do a mystery.”

“We can throw a whole goddamn murder mystery party if you want, William, as long as you’re my partner in crime.”

William laughs and it’s loud and full, even with the noise of the city around them. “Kyle, you know you’re a huge dork, right?”

Kyle shrugs his shoulders up and down. “You seem to like me anyway.”

It’s not a very romantic kiss like under a fancy streetlight in the snow or rain or whatever. It’s probably not a book-club-gush-worthy kiss, not even close. It’s just them, huddled together under a dripping purple awning while a firetruck screams past them. But William is warm beneath Kyle’s hands as he pulls him in close, and their glasses clink together in an awkward but cute way when they kiss and Kyle smiles against William’s mouth, and there’s a cool end of summer breeze around them, so it’s pretty perfect all the same.

***

Knitting goes about as well as anyone would expect of a jock and a financial expert. The first knitting class is really more of a sewing class and Kyle keeps accidentally stabbing himself with the needle until there’s little drops of blood on his scrap of fabric, and William apparently never learned how to tie a knot because it takes him nearly forty minutes to get past step one.

“My hands are suffering! Suffering, Kyle,” William moans on their way home. “They’re all cramped and stiff and sore from being stabbed for an hour.”

“Who invented this craft? Why are people still doing it?” Kyle demanded of the air. “Who comes home from a day at work and thinks, ‘oh this will be nice I’ll sit in this chair and stab myself repeatedly while I fail to make straight lines with this piece of flimsy fucking string.”

“I can’t even straighten out my fingers, Kyle! I don’t even know if I’ll be able to have sex tonight.”

“That’s what your concerned about?”

William frowns at him. “This affects you too, Kyle. Maybe you should be more concerned.”

“Sure, William. I don’t think knitting is going to be our thing.”

“Maybe when we’re ancient. And we don’t need to have sex anymore so who cares if our hands are blistered and broken.”

“Your perspective on aging is concerning.”

“I’m not meant to be old, Kyle, I’m meant to be young and beautiful forever.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thank you. Maybe pottery will be better. Clay is a natural moisturizer and exfoliate. It will heal my hands.”

“Pottery’s fun, from what I remember,” Kyle nods, ignoring William’s comment about skin care. William talks a lot about skin care. Kyle’s learned its best not to ask sometimes.

“You’ve tried it before?”

“Like years ago, yeah, in university.”

“You took a pottery class in university? Kyle, that’s like, so sexy.”

“Oh is it?” Kyle asks, bemused. “That does something for you? Me in an apron covered in grey dust spinning a lump of clay on wheel?”

“Is it weird if I say yes, that absolutely does something for me, as in like right now, as in we should hurry up and get home please?”

“I thought your poor hands were too traumatized from knitting club.”

“I think they’re better now,” William says with mock seriousness, nudging Kyle playfully, leaning close as they round the corner to Kyle’s building.

“What a surprise,” Kyle laughs.

***

They almost skip pottery, and afterwards Kyle really wishes they had.

Their morning is off to a great start. Every morning is off to a great start when it means waking up late with warm light blinking through the curtains, William wrapped around Kyle in bed, his nose tucked up under Kyle’s collar bone and his hair—extra golden in the morning sunlight—tickling Kyle’s shoulder.

They wake up slow, play a round of that game that isn’t really a game just them tangling their hands together in a million different ways and tracing words on each other’s backs and guessing, laughing too hard at nothing in particular until William decides he’s hungry and starts bitching about Kyle not having any good cereal in his apartment. Kyle makes pancakes and William insists on finding shapes in the batter like he’s picking out cloud formations. It’s cute and Kyle tells him so before pressing him up against the counter and kissing him until the pancakes nearly burn.

It’s too good be true, maybe, after a few crazy weeks of contract negotiations and William putting in more training hours and all of their fairly disastrous attempts at finding a couples thing.

Kyle is so tempted to give in when William tugs at the strings of Kyle’s apron and says, “fuck pottery, let’s just go back to bed.” But this was William’s idea and Kyle can’t quite get the excited look in William’s eye when he suggested the whole thing out of his head, and things have gone fairly disastrously so far, so he figures he owes it to William to at least give the second last thing on their list a really enthusiastic shot.

“We are not skipping pottery, William. I promised my grandma a handmade vase for Christmas.”

“Boooooo,” William whines, like an actual toddler.

Two hours later, William and Kyle are seated on too-high stools around a rickety table in a very hot pottery studio with nearly twenty kids all under the age of twelve.

“You didn’t say there would be kids here,” Kyle hisses. “How are we supposed to survive this if we can’t swear when we fuck up?”

William frowns. With his glasses, it makes him look very serious and studious and Kyle is Very Into It. “Failed step one, Kyle. Besides, kids are great. I love kids. Kids are very creative. And now if you suck, it’s fine, because your work will just fit right in. No pressure.”

“I feel like I’m in elementary school art class again,” Kyle grumbles.

“Bet you were a real nerd in elementary school. Harry Potter glasses and reading books in the corner at recess like a total loser.”

“You were the dumb jock playing four square every day for thirteen years,” Kyle fires back.

“Yes, and I think that’s very sexy of me, Kyle.”

The class itself could have gone much worse, but it still isn’t great. Kyle’s clay is too dry and keeps cracking and falling apart no matter how many different ways he tries to shape his vase. William is mostly annoyed that they don’t actually get to paint their pottery that day. The teacher is a very hungover art student who looks like she’d rather lock herself in the kiln than teach a group of children and two clueless boyfriends how make shitty pottery. It ends with Kyle stumbling into William and accidentally knocking his really quite beautiful mug onto the floor and then stepping on it, crushing it just minutes before the end of the class.

He’s about to laugh and make a joke about how they should really stop picking craft activities to try together, but he stops, mouth hanging open, when he sees William’s face. And…Kyle must be imagining it or making it worse in his head, because it looks like William might be about to cry?

“Shit,” Kyle says, dumb. “Will, I’m so sorry, it was an accident. Fuck. Here, take mine, I know it’s kind of ugly but—”

“No, it’s fine,” William says, his voice small. He’s just staring at his smushed mug with one of his hands covering his mouth so his words are all muffled. “I’m gonna just. Um. Bathroom. Wash my hands.”

“William, wait—” Kyle says, panicking a little, because he doesn’t know how to fix this. The mug or whatever is happening right now. It feels big. The mug feels a little too symbolic and he wishes he could kick it under the table or cover it with a towel so he doesn’t have to look at it. Instead he watches William nudge his way around the swarms of kids and disappear into the bathroom.

Kyle sinks back down onto his stool. His throat feels all tight like it did that one time he got a weird bug bite on his neck and his throat nearly closed up. Probably too much clay dust in the air. He looks down at his grey-white stained hands and sees that they’re shaking.

***

The weird quiet sets in before they can find a way to stop it. They take the streetcar home to avoid the long walk in silence, and after a few stops William says, without really looking at Kyle, that he’s pretty tired and is going to head back to his place for a while instead. Kyle doesn’t try to fight him on it. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth and a weird flip-floppy feeling in his stomach that he doesn’t think is from the pancakes or the clay dust.

William doesn’t call that night, and neither does Kyle, though he does check his phone every six seconds while pretending to read. They go on a museum tour at the ROM the next day, but conversation is so strained they barely make it through two galleries before Kyle stops spouting random information and William stops pretending to listen, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram on his phone until Kyle makes up a meeting he forgot about and all but runs out of the place.

Kyle skypes his grandma that night while he makes banana muffins.

“It’s just not something I ever really worried about before,” he tells her, as he combines the spices with the flour. “Maybe I should have. I knew we were different, obviously, I still don’t understand how he even exists half the time, but…”

“But now you think you’re too different?” she finishes his thought.

Kyle pours a little too much cinnamon and picks up the whisk. “Well, aren’t we?”

“Bullshit. You’re being ridiculous, sweetheart.”

“We have almost nothing in common. Sure, hockey and few superficial things, but what do we do when that’s not enough? Do we just become that couple who comes home at the end of the day all annoyed and just complain about work?”

“If you didn’t have anything except work you wouldn’t have made it this far, you wouldn’t be in it this deep.”

“That’s what I said when he suggested all these ridiculous couples activities! But we haven’t been able to do even one of them without something going wrong. And sure, they haven’t been all bad but things are just getting more tense. If we keep this up, we’re going to end up at an improv club or something and he’s going to break up with me mid-scene.”

“Maybe you should go to an improv club. Maybe theatre would suit you. You’re certainly being dramatic enough.”

“I thought you were supposed to be good at advice. All wise beyond your years and all that.”

“Are you calling me old?”

“I would never.”

“Honey, listen to me. For someone who’s usually so good with words and ideas you seem to be having a hard time putting them together. Talk to him. Have you even thought about why these activities aren’t working?”

“Because William doesn’t care about the history of the Visigoths and I would rather die than join a hot yoga class.”

“Uh huh,” his grandma hums. She makes a tsking sound and shakes her head. “Then why in the hell did you choose to do those things for a date? What kind of masochistic fools are you, setting each other up for a terrible time like that?”

Kyle blinks at her through the screen. “Oh.”

She chuckles. “Mhm now he gets it.”

***

Kyle is just about to call William when he beats him to it.

“Hi, I was just about to call you.”

“Hi,” William says. “I’m downstairs. Can I come up?”

Kyle buzzes him in and William flops on the couch, hands stuck in his pockets. He’s wearing a toque even though it’s nearly thirty degrees outside. Kyle kind of wants to sneakily pull it off and touch his hair, but that might be weird given the conversation they definitely need to have, so he doesn’t do that.

“So, I was just talking to my grandmother,” Kyle says at the exact moment that William says, “Kappy said we’re both idiots.”

“Oh,” Kyle says. “Um. Yeah that’s basically what my grandma said too.”

“I told him everything,” William sighs. “It took like four hours.”

“That’s…a long time to talk about pottery and book club?”

William shrugs. “Apparently we did this wrong?”

Kyle nods his head. “Apparently, yeah.” He sits next to William on the couch, a little hesitant. William waits a minute, and then shuffles a bit so he can tuck his feel under Kyle’s legs like usual.

“William,” Kyle begins. Pauses, then continues. “I’m sorry if I was dismissive of the couples activities thing.”

“You thought it was pretty dumb.”

“Yeah,” Kyle admits, “but you seemed excited and I like when you’re excited about things, so I figured why not? It’ll be a laugh or a funny story to look back on at least. I didn’t really think about it too much. I think I tried not to think about it.”

“I just like hanging out with you. I wanted to do it more.”

“I like hanging out with you too. I also want to do it more.”

“Didn’t really work super well when we tried it.”

“Not exactly.” Kyle grimaces. “But we probably should have talked a bit more about why we were doing this. And why we were getting so stressed out over pottery and drop in yoga classes.”

“I think we’re usually pretty good at talking?” William says it like a question. “You use all your big fancy words and take forever to make a point and I get distracted sometimes but. We get there eventually.”

“You were just so excited about all these activities. I didn’t want to be an asshole and ruin it by being sulky or not super into it. But then things kind of spiraled and I got freaked out that you were right, that we didn’t have anything in common, and if I said something it made that real. If we kept going maybe we’d eventually find something.”

“Or we’d explode and break up at like an improv class in front a bunch of people or something.”

“That’s what I said!” Kyle exclaims. “We can’t do improv by the way, I would die.”

William laughs and Kyle kind of wants to cry a little with relief when his eyes get all crinkly from his smile.

“Yeah, okay, no improv. But you want to still try other stuff?”

Kyle nods thoughtfully. “I just think we need to compromise more.”

William’s nose wrinkles. “Gross. Compromising is for straight people, Kyle.”

Kyle rolls his eyes. “You’re such a brat. Fine, compromise isn’t the right word. Maybe…collaborate. You love that word. You and your collaborative reading.”

“That I can get on board with.”

“I was thinking, and I made my own list.”

“Wow, that’s pretty sexy, Kyle.”

“William.”

“Read me this list, Kyle.”

“I was thinking we’d try trivia nights. Because I’m—”

“A nerd,” William offers, helpfully.

“Yes, thank you, and you are extremely competitive and also know a lot of just absurd facts, that’ll be good for trivia.”

“We would make such a good trivia pair. Did you know that a male octopus has to like reeeally impress a female octopus before she’ll have sex with him? And like if he’s not good enough at foreplay she just eats him?”

Kyle shakes his head, smiling. “Who even are you?”

William shrugs. “I’ve been to aquariums, Kyle. What else is on your list.”

“Board games. Puzzles. We can go out to a café or get a bunch and play here. I’m good at strategy and putting together a puzzle could like bring out your artistic side maybe.”

“I’m so good at puzzles, Kyle, I can do them for hours. We used to always get a puzzle for Christmas, one of whatever city we were living in at the time. I got very good.”

“Maybe baking classes? We cook a lot here already and you would eat an entire bakery if you could. Plus you think my apron is hot. Now we can match.”

William sighs deeply and clutches Kyle’s arm. “That’s so romantic, babe. We can watch the Great British Bake Off! It’s like the Bachelor but with baking, and none of them are actually cooks, they’re all like pharmacists or gym teachers or something, and they spend all their free time baking eight million macaroons each week. You’ll love it.”

“Whoa now, a couples activity and a tv show. What next? Gonna bring back our book club?”

“Only if it’s one of those sexy highlander novels.”

“No. I draw the line.”

“I would look so good in a kilt, Kyle.”

“William, don’t do this to me.”

“Hey, Kyle?” William shifts on the couch so that he can lean his head on Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle has surprisingly not-boney shoulders, perfect for resting William’s head on.

“Yes, William?”

“I’m excited to play board with games and do puzzles with you.”

“Even when I kick your ass every round and when we inevitably can’t find the very last puzzle piece?”

“You’re my puzzle piece.”

“How poetic. Hey, William?”

“Uh huh?”

“I’m excited to suck at baking with you.”

William laughs and Kyle smiles and their hands tangle up together. There’s no puzzles or games or trivia or recipes just yet, no hockey to put on the TV or bicker about, but right now this is exactly enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I yell about hockey [here](https://gabithagrumbles.tumblr.com/)


End file.
